


Betrayals

by dairesfanficrefuge_archivist



Category: Profiler
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-12-31
Updated: 1999-12-31
Packaged: 2018-12-18 06:10:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11868306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dairesfanficrefuge_archivist/pseuds/dairesfanficrefuge_archivist
Summary: Note from Daire, the archivist: this story was originally archived atDaire's Fanfic Refuge. Deciding to give the stories a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address onDaire's Fanfic Refuge's collection profile.





	Betrayals

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Daire, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Daire's Fanfic Refuge](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Daire%27s_Fanfic_Refuge). Deciding to give the stories a more long-term home, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Daire's Fanfic Refuge's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/dairesfanficrefuge/profile).

Betrayals by Karen K.

_Betrayals_

By Karen K. 

A _Profiler_ fanfic 

* * *

John Grant sat at the bar nursing his drink and wondering for the hundredth time why he had agreed to this blind date. "Hi." John looked up into the softest hazel eyes he had ever seen. 

"Tracy?" he asked hopefully. 

"Nope, but if it'll make you feel any better you can call me Tracy," she quipped. He assessed her and found that the soft hazel eyes mixed with flowing chestnut hair and a china doll face made a very pleasing package. She stood no more then five foot five and weighed in at probably a hundred only if she was soaking wet. "This seat taken?" she asked. He shook his head and motioned for her to sit. "Karen Roarke," she held out a hand with long tapered fingers. 

"John Grant," he answered, shaking her hand. 

"Long day?" she asked. 

"Longer night. A friend of mine set me up on a blind date and she's thirty minutes late." 

"She kept you waiting?!" her eyes widened playfully. 

He laughed. "Can I buy you a drink?" 

"Thanks. A soda," she told the bartender. 

"What brings you here tonight?" 

"Just a need to get anywhere. Everybody was busy but I figured I was a big girl and could handle entertaining myself," she joked. 

"And I bet you do an excellent job," he grinned. 

"No doubt, Can I buy you dinner?" she asked and then smiled at the look on his face. "Now don't go macho on me, besides you shouldn't be drinking on an empty stomach," she chided. 

"My apologies," he answered and they headed for the restaurant. They spent the night talking until the early hours, when they realized how late it was John offered to drive her home. 

"You know, I've never had better luck being bored," she giggled. 

"All I can say is that I've never been so grateful for being stood up." There was a moment of silence and then John leaned forward to kiss her goodnight. He'd only intended a short peck on the cheek but somehow that short peck became an impassioned kiss. He lost himself in the kiss, never wanting it to end. Her fingers wrapped in his hair as she responded eagerly to his kiss. He was confused when she gently pushed him away. 

"I think you better be leaving before we do something we'll both regret." John nodded numbly, unable to use his voice. They made another date and then she entered her apartment and John headed towards his car whistling. 

* * *

"Hey John," George Findley the computer expert called. When John didn't respond after a couple times George wadded up a piece of paper and threw it at him. John sat up straighter after the paper struck him in the forehead. 

"Huh?" Nathan Brubaker, John's partner grinned. 

"Welcome back to the land of the living Grant," John threw the wadded up paper at him. Nathan ducked and the paper hit Bailey Malone in the chest as he entered the room. "Too much time on your hands, John?" asked Malone. 

"He was sitting there grinning like an idiot so I'm figuring he had a great night," said Nathan. 

"So Tracy turned out to be okay?" asked Joe Daniels. 

"Actually, she never showed up," answered John. 

"But someone else did?" asked George. John just smiled and refused any further comment on the previous night's activities or the people involved. 

* * *

"Come on, I really want you to meet them," said John. 

"I'll meet them John," she answered and kissed him. 

"You've been saying that for months but you always cancel. The boys at work are beginning to think that I made you up." 

She smiled. "So I'm your fantasy girl, am I?" She drew him to her and began to kiss his neck. He pushed her gently away. 

"Karen I'm serious." 

"Okay then, why don't we meet these guys and show them that your fantasy life isn't the only thing about you that's active." She took his hand and led him out of the hospital to the parking lot. 

As they entered the parking lot a shot rang out and Karen slammed backwards as her head connected sickeningly with the pavement. John's heart stopped with a painful lurch. "Get a doctor!" he yelled to a security guard as he clutched her body to him. Her pain-filled eyes opened and focused on him. 

"John?" she whispered. 

"I'm here," was all he could think of to say, she lifted an unsteady hand to his face. When her hand slid down his face leaving behind a trail of blood he realized that she wasn't breathing. He started CPR and had to be physically restrained by an orderly when the doctor arrived so that he wouldn't interfere with the doctor's treatment. 

* * *

A hand on John's shoulder startled him awake and he was on his feet immediately. He searched the doctor's eyes and what he saw made him grope blindly behind him for a chair and sit down heavily. For just a moment his mind seized up as if he were in some horrible nightmare. He stared straight ahead, unable to move even to wipe away the tears that ran down his face. John felt a hand clasp his shoulder and squeeze gently but he couldn't bring himself to look at the doctor who was attempting to console him. "You did everything that you could so don't blame yourself for this." 

When John arrived home the phone was ringing , he jerked it out of the wall and threw it across the room. He couldn't accept the fact that she was gone and he felt as if his world was disintegrating. John felt as if he hadn't done enough to save her and he had lost what had promised to be the best thing in his life. The guilt was unbearable and driven by the rage inside him he reached out blindly for the nearest object and hurled it across the room. John took great satisfaction in systematically destroying the room and nothing escaped his wrath. 

When Sam Waters knocked on the door an object crashed against the door and shattered noisily. "Go Away!" John snarled drunkenly. 

"It's me, Sam. Let me in John," she answered. 

"Go the hell away!" Sam nodded to the landlord and he used his master key to open the apartment door. 

"Thank you for calling me," said Sam. "Hey, Grant's a pretty good tenant. If you can help him I'd appreciate it because having a Fed around sure keeps the crime down." With that the landlord turned and left. Sam entered the apartment and saw that clothes and liquor bottles were scattered on the floor. _He's drinking himself into a stupor,_ she thought worriedly. Sam's eyes swept the room and came to rest on the only object big enough to be a person. Curses emanated from the couch as she pulled back the blanket. 

His hair was disheveled and his eyes were bloodshot. He looked like he hadn't slept in a week. "Your drunk!" chided Sam. 

"And I'm going to get drunker. Now get out of here and let me get soused," he answered as his angry eyes glared up at her. 

"Mind telling me why you think drinking yourself into a stupor will help?" 

"Yes, now get the hell out of my sight!" he snarled. He rose and headed into the kitchen and she heard him banging around for a few moments before there was silence. John emerged with a bottle in his hand. Sam snatched the bottle out of his hand and John stared at her, his gaze deadly. He glared at Sam as she walked over to the sink with the bottle in her hand. "If you dump that I'll kill you," he said threateningly. 

"You can barely stand." 

"Try me," he answered as he headed towards her. John made a grab for the bottle and Sam landed a punch to his stomach. He fell back holding his injured stomach and slumped onto the couch. His eyes bore straight into Sam's, filled with a pain that seemed older then everything. "A part of me is missing and I can't ever get it back. All I want is for the ache to go away. I can't live like this, it hurts too much...." he stopped unable to continue. 

"I know." Sam whispered in response. John straightened, his entire demeanor threatening and his voice was hard and dangerous. 

"You know nothing!" his eyes darkened. "What you felt is nothing compared to what I feel!" John curled into a ball and began to shake, Sam walked over to him. She kneeled down and lightly touched his shoulder, at first he flinched but then he let her take him in her arms. 

She cradled his head on her shoulder as she crooned softly to him. John's arms wrapped around Sam as he let loose with his pain. She felt tears falling from her own eyes as she tried to comfort him. When he was down she took his face in her hands. "You're a mess," Sam said jokingly. She leaned him back on the couch and drew a blanket up around him. "Sleep, you could use it," she ordered gently. Sam settled on the floor next to the couch, waiting for him to wake up. She watched John's face as he slept, he stirred and then moaned and Sam guessed he was having a nightmare. She stroked his hair and crooned softly and he quickly settles down. 

When he awoke a few hours later Sam had cleaned up his apartment for the want of something better to do. He sat and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "Sam?" he asked, his voice sounding panicked. 

"Right here John." He took the hand she held out to him and she winced at how tightly he grasped her hand but said nothing. She saw the look of fear that he'd lost someone else leave his eyes. "Why don't you get a shower and I'll get you something to eat." John nodded and stood unsteadily before heading off to the bathroom. A real fear gripped her belly as she watched him leave. John had been the one to put his life in jeopardy by pretending to be her boyfriend so that they could catch the serial killer Jack. Jack could have killed him in any number of long painful ways, but John had been the one to put her fears to rest. 

He had come up with the idea to make Jack jealous and get him to do something stupid so that they could arrest him. The plan had failed but John, ever her rock, had said it would be okay. _What did one do when your foundation crumbled?_ she wondered. He was usually her strength, and now he needed hers. Sam got John fed and dressed and even talked him into going into work. She hoped that since staying home had been so disastrous perhaps working could help him. John had barely eaten which had worried Sam because she doubted he'd eaten in the last three days since Karen Roarke had been killed. She hoped the activity would result in a return of his appetite. 

He came into the office and a number of his coworkers exchanged worried glances. They had wanted to go with Sam but she thought that it would overwhelm him, so she had gone alone. John headed for his desk and went straight to work and if Sam had known what he had in mind she would have left him at home. He holed at his desk working on everything there was do. Except when he went down to bother the agents in charge of Roarke's case to see if there was anything new. He had even taken other peoples' work because he'd run out of things to do. "I brought you some dinner." Sam placed the tray down next to him. 

"I'm not hungry." 

"You haven't eaten in days," Sam answered worriedly. 

"I'm still not hungry." 

"Are you going to the funeral?" she asked. 

"It's pointless." 

"You can't just shut down and disconnect like your doing. You'll die inside if you do. She's dead and there is nothing you can do to change it. I'm sure Karen wouldn't want this," pleaded Sam. 

"She's alive for me in her own way and I'll honor it the way I want to." 

"You have to face this! Don't think about it, feel!" He looked up and their eyes met, his eyes had deep shadows and held a haunted look. 

"You know nothing! I've done nothing but feel!" he roared, and Sam backed up afraid. He swept the tray from the desk sending it crashing onto the floor. "I don't need to be analyzed, doctor! If I want grief counseling I'll ask for your office hours!" John pushed George aside as George tried to calm him and stalked out of the VCTF. 

* * *

A week later, John walked behind the coffin bearers. He hadn't been able to grieve and was almost catatonic throughout the funeral. After the funeral, everyone had left except the members of the VCTF. "John?" He turned to face Bailey, his clothing and hair were rumpled but he didn't seem to care or notice. "Where have you been for the past week?" he asked gently. 

"Who are you, my father?" John asked snidely and didn't seem to notice Bailey's flinch as if he'd been physically struck. 

"Come with me," said Bailey. 

"Where?" asked John. 

"My place. You shouldn't be alone right now." 

"I am alone," he answered with a voice devoid of emotion. 

"Don't ruin the memory of her love by destroying yourself." 

"Everything I was just went into that grave." He turned and started to leave. 

"John whatever you're planning on doing you're going to have to go through me to do it." 

A look of pure rage crossed Grant's face and before anybody could do anything he'd punched Bailey. Nathan and George grabbed him and restrained him so he wouldn't hurt anybody. Finally, John stopped struggling and they released him with a wary eye for any further trouble. "I don't need your help to do what I have to," John said sarcastically. 

"Just what do you have to do?" asked Sam. For a moment he looked unsure and afraid as if he was so tired of trying and just wanted to give up. 

* * *

John had gotten a good lead on Karen's killer and had followed it up to finding himself with the man who knelt in front of him. He leaned over, "You're the murderer I'm looking for. There's only one way to save your worthless life and that's to confess. It leads to an interesting problem though, because I could kill you right now and no one would question me," he said quietly and stuck his gun in the man's ear. John fought within himself about whether he should pull the trigger or not. 

Karen Roarke burst through the door with a gun in her hand. "John?" John's hand fell to his side as he stared incredulously at her. "John move away from him." She ordered as she leveled her gun at Grant. 

"Karen?" he asked with a confused look on his face. He started towards her. 

"I don't think so!" she warned as she backed away. 

"Shoot him!" said the man on the floor and John backhanded him. 

"Shut up!" he roared. 

"John!" she yelled and the man took Grant's distraction as a chance for his escape. As he ran, Grant aimed his gun, Roarke aimed hers at his head. Something stopped her from pulling the trigger though and instead she threw her body into John's throwing his shot off. Grant cursed as the man got away but he was quick enough to catch Roarke before she got away. After a token struggle she stopped and stood quietly in his arms. 

"What the hell is going on here!?" he demanded angrily. She remained silent, Grant spun her around and handcuffed her. He read her her rights and then spun her to face him again. "Do you know what kind of trouble you're in? Falsifying your death and obstructing justice just to begin with!" 

"And I betrayed you," she answered quietly. "I was doing my job. I never meant to hurt you in any way." 

John glared at her as he barely contained his rage. "You let me believe that you were in love with me so that I could be duped by you!" he snarled. 

"I do love you, please don't think that I don't but I had no choice," Roarke pleaded. 

"Oh, I understand that you were just a whore doing her job." If looks could have killed, the one Roarke threw Grant would have made him drop dead on the spot. He grabbed her and started towards the car with her. 

* * *

The next morning John Grant waited in the interrogation room for the guards to bring Karen in. Whoever or whatever she was, helplessness had never been a part of her life. His heart urged him to trust in her innocence but he couldn't be sure that his thinking wasn't fogged by his feelings for her. The guard brought her in and she sat in a chair across from Grant. "Who are you?" he asked. 

"Surely that doesn't matter." She was completely controlled and unemotional. 

"Tell me everything, no secrets." Strain rang in his voice. He stared at her so intensely that she wanted to look away but instead retreated into icy professionalism. 

"There's nothing to tell," she answered, struggling to keep her tone cool and professional. 

"You're hiding information that I need to know." John's voice was soft but there was hostility just below the surface. Grant tried to play the rational adult but it was a real challenge at this point. Roarke would have hit him if she thought it would have done any good. When he spoke again his voice was very quiet and very determined. "I want you to tell me what the hell is going on." His eyes were dark and coldly intimidating. His indignation turned into icy anger with an unshakable determination to do something about it. "Tell me!" he snapped so vehemently that she recoiled slightly from him in shock. 

Her eyes clouded over. "There's nothing to tell," she persisted as a cold sense of despair settled over her. She felt tired and discouraged, John grabbed her arms and pulled her to her feet. 

His eyes were troubled. "Why won't you tell me anything?" he pleaded. Roarke closed her eyes to shut out the stricken look on his face. John felt numb but under the numbness he felt an undeniable pain. She turned away for a moment refusing to see the tears welling up in her eyes. He felt her shiver and saw her struggle to control it before turning back to face him. 

When Roarke faced John again her expression had darkened and fury glowed in her eyes. "Go away and leave me alone!" she hissed, her tone was dangerous, threatening. Her expression was stubborn and determined as she sat down hugging herself tightly. 

"You don't know what your involved in." Her voice held so much pain and he could tell she was fighting hard to hide it. John thought he saw fear in her eyes for a brief moment and then it was gone. Roarke leaned forward fixing on him with a fierce gaze full of anger and just a hint of desperation. 

John felt tired and defeated. "Tell me what I'm involved in so I can deal with it." 

She leapt to her feet, her fists clenched at her sides. "You know nothing and you mean nothing to me!" she screamed at him. Horror showed in her eyes for the briefest of moments as she realized what she had just said. The guard moved closer to her as John found he couldn't move at all. Despite the guard's grip on her arm she stood straight without any trace of the horror stricken girl who had stood there only moments before. Everything about her spoke of a well trained solider who he had no doubt could have killed him at anytime. John took a staggering step backwards as he was overwhelmed by a rush of hatred and fear. He gave Roarke a look that went right through her. "You're a fool to believe that I could ever care for you. You were just some convenient fun," she hissed at him. 

Roarke no longer cared if John saw how angry she was because things could never go back to the way they were. She was losing her emotional control but she was unable to fight it any longer. She had to think of a way to make him leave before she collapsed into tears in front of him. "Take her back to her cell." Grant said in a low, deadly and calm voice that brooked no denial. He felt if he didn't leave now he would lose his composure. He wheeled around and strode out of the room as he tried to ignore the wobbliness in his legs. As furious as he was, his mind was already racing to find a solution to the problem. Hatred he learned a long time ago could be a good thing if it was used to motivate yourself instead of burying it inside and allowing it to eat at you like a cancer. John didn't break his stride until he reached the VCTF. 

He sat and leaned back trying to relax but found he was unable to. Soon he was on his feet and pacing like a caged animal. Somehow though the pacing freed his mind to wander and it returned to his interview with Roarke. He reviewed everything in his mind as he tried to make sense of it. There would be no sleep for him tonight because his mind was too restless. 

It no longer mattered to Roarke if she lived or died, but she knew that whatever was in store for her she'd need all her mental and physical abilities to combat it. Her mind went back to when she had told John she didn't care for him. His haunting eyes had bore into her and made her feel terrible for lying to him. She tried to hold onto the feeling of his arms around her. She chided herself for even allowing herself that small bit of comfort. 

* * *

"What do you think will happen to me?" John asked Sam. "I didn't really want to hurt him. Something just came over me...." 

Sam laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You've been through a lot and so much has happened that you haven't been able to absorb it yet. You're confused right now and need time to think." 

"Sam, I don't know how to face everyone. I can barely face myself in the mirror, how can I face the others? How can I function if people are afraid to trust me?" his voice grew hard. John turned away from her and she noted the tense muscles in his clenched jaw. 

"John, no man is perfect. Every man has been a fool at least once in their lives for a woman. She used you so well that it's obvious that she's had a great deal of experience in deceiving and using men. I have no doubt that you're not the only member of that particular club." 

"That's just it, it was almost as if....there were only brief moments but it was almost as if she were doing this against her will." 

George entered with a file in hand. "John, your girlfriend has a pretty interesting past. Most of its still classified, but what I could get is that she has two sons named Christopher and Dylan Harper. Chris is twelve and a straight A student at Fenmore High School, but like his brother Dylan, neither has been in school since about a week before your girlfriend showed up in your life. Neither of the boys have been seen around their home or any home belonging to friends or family. It's like they've just fallen off the face of the earth. I think it's a classic 'do what I say and your kids stay alive' scenario," said George. 

"George, do you think you could find pictures of the boys and maybe when they were last seen and by who?" asked John. 

"I'll even get them to remember what they were doing when they were last seen." He headed back to his computer. 

"Well, John, you were right, it seems as if someone might be holding her sons until she does what she's supposed to," said Sam. 

"Just what is it that she's supposed to do though? I've got to find out." 

"Let me interview her, John, and maybe I can get something out of her," said Sam. He had agreed and Sam called to make an appointment to meet Karen Roarke for an interrogation. Sam sat quietly while they brought in the woman that had sent John spinning out of control. She was a petite chestnut haired hazel-eyed china doll that didn't look very strong or capable. 

She sat down across from Sam but said nothing, waiting for Sam to begin the conversation. "I'm Sam Waters and I work with John Grant at the VCTF," she introduced herself. 

"Am I supposed to jump in joy because you and John work together?" she remarked sarcastically. 

"I can tell that you love John." 

"You know nothing because you are nothing," she hissed at Sam. 

"Actually, I'm here because John's a friend and he thought I could help since I wasn't emotionally invested." 

Karen laughed bitterly. "Emotionally invested, that's cute," she answered snidely. "Listen blondie, I don't have time for you or your emotional investment so why don't you take a hike." Sam knew that this woman would refuse to talk to anyone until she was ready and she obviously wasn't. As Sam got up to leave Karen grasped her wrist. "Listen blondie, you take real good care of John Grant, or else. You got that?" she asked. 

"I've got it, but why did you care?" 

"Let's just say I have an investment in the man," she answered before motioning to the guard to take her back to her cell. Sam was confused by what had just happened. Everything about this woman suggested that John had been just a toy for her to play with. Then moments like what just happened would occur and it left her more confused than when she started. She obviously cared a great deal for John or she wouldn't have threatened Sam. So why did she swear that John meant nothing to her? Sam returned to the VCTF to see what else was in that interesting file that George had gotten on Karen Roarke. Maybe there was a psych profile or something that could help Sam get a grasp on this ever-changing woman. Maybe something to help her find a way to save John Grant's sanity. 

* * *

John watched her from outside the cell before coming closer so that she could see him. "Karen?" he said quietly almost as if he were pleading with her for answers. 

"What's this man doing here? I don't know him," Karen said angrily. 

"I know you're doing this for Chris and Dylan," John said with more confidence then he felt. 

"Who are Chris and Dylan?" she flung back at him. 

"Your sons?" he said. 

"I don't have any children," she answered bitterly. 

"Strange but your file says differently." 

"Then you've got the wrong file," she spit at him. Christopher Connor Harper age twelve, and Dylan Joseph Harper age four, born to Karen Roarke and John Harper. John Harper was a Marine Captain with the United States Marine Corp before being killed in a classified mission four years ago." John read from the file and realized that the man had died four months before the birth of his youngest child. 

He felt a twinge to realize that this man had a beautiful family with an addition on the way that would only make him happier and he never got to see the little boy that would have been his life. Both Chris and Dylan took after their father in looks, close cropped blonde hair with sparkling and alive blue eyes. The shine in John Harper's eyes was matched only by the shine in the eyes of the only other occupant of the photo John held, Karen Roarke. He was sure he'd seen the same look in Karen's eyes when she'd looked at him over the months that they'd been together. Knowing what that love had felt like he knew that he would be as desperate as she was to save anything from that love that she could. The only part of John Harper that had survived his death was his sons. Karen was desperate to protect the boys from whatever had befallen them. 

Grant quietly gathered the photos in the folder and bent down to slide them under the cell door. He could always get more but he knew that she needed them more right now then he did. She waited until she couldn't see Grant before she raced over and picked up the photos. She kissed the one of the boys gently as tears started to course down her face. 

Karen didn't noticed John standing in the shadows as his own theory was confirmed. She did care not only for him, but for the boys that she had given up everything for. He felt a hollow emptiness inside him and a small building fear that when he finally saw the boys in something other then a photo it wouldn't be good. John Grant had never been surer then right there and then that "morgue" was the nastiest word he'd ever heard. He made himself and Karen a promise that no matter what it took, he'd get the boys home to their mother safely. 

As he returned to the VCTF he saw that George had a video up and running, George was saying that a friend of John Harper's had given him the tape. On the screen John Harper was laughing and playing with Karen and an eight year old that Grant realized had to be Christopher. The kid was screaming with glee as he and his father wrestled, the boy sat on his father's chest as his father declared his surrender in the face of such a great opponent. The scene switched between people at the picnic but it always came back to the threesome who seemed lost in their own little world of happiness and love. Karen was visibly pregnant at five months and John Harper took obvious pride in his wife and children. The part of the tape that made Grant's heart seize was the look on Harper's face when his exhausted wife was sound asleep with their son curled in her arms. 

The look was one of extreme pride and protection, but most of all of love. A love that Grant's life had only hinted at. Grant sat down and read Karen Roarke's file, she had come from an extremely abusive background but managed to rise above it and make something of herself. The thing that he envied was that she managed to let herself love despite her background of pain and suffering. There were reports by social workers, but nothing had ever been done to remove her from a home where two parents had physically and emotionally abused her. John was just glad that there were clear signs that no sexual abuse had occurred. Despite everything the friends they had interviewed had said Karen was a loving mother whose only fault was that she was slightly overprotective of the boys. She did try to change that though it was what everyone had said. 

The boys were well mannered and behaved young men who extremely happy and well adjusted according to everyone from the next-door neighbor to the school's principal. There was no record of Karen ever having received counseling, so obviously she had overcome her past all by herself, which was a miracle in itself. 

He had interviewed her previous partners while she had worked for the LCPD and then for the Justice Department. They all said the same thing about how Karen was extremely maternal and looked out for them and others. She was funny, extremely sweet and a soft touch for a good hard luck story. Everything that John had already realized by dating her for a few months. He wondered how such a sweet, almost naive girl remained so sweet despite her parents and working in a job that didn't lend to gentleness. 

* * *

Karen jerked awake, positive that she'd heard a noise and then she heard something heavy fall. She turned towards the cell door to see a shadow stepped out of the surrounding shadows. The shadow dropped something that looked for all the world like a body before opening her cell door. He came in and grabbed her roughly by the arm nearly wrenching it out of it's socket as he drew her up to her feet. "Your ride's here," he said sarcastically as he dragged her out of the cell. Karen broke free and crouched by the young guard who had shown her some kindness. She closed her eyes and took a big breath as she realized that he was dead. The man wrenched her up away from the young man. 

"There was no reason to kill him!" she hissed at him. 

"There was no reason not to, now let's get out of here." 

* * *

"How the hell did she escape?!" yelled John Grant, he was frustrated that their only lead was gone. 

"Calm down John," said Sam as she rubbed his gently as she tried to soothe him. 

"Sam, from the evidence there is no way a five foot four and a half woman could of broken the neck of a six foot one man from above. Which means whoever killed the guard broke her out and it means she could be in real danger!" 

Sam heard the worry in his voice. "We'll find her and her boys and keep them safe," replied George in a tone that brooked nor argument as he headed back to the cell to investigate further. 

John paced angrily for a few minutes. "I've got to get out of here before I suffocate!" A slight panic in his voice made him wince. John strode out of the room as his mind furiously played back everything he could remember in hopes that it could lead him to Karen. 

* * *

Karen glanced at the man who was the bane of her existence. Malcolm Forestor had snatched her sons and threatened her with their lives if she didn't do exactly as she was told. "You thought you could fool me into believing that you were dead but you forgot your reputation Phoenix," said Forestor. 

"Let me see my sons!" ordered Karen. 

"Your not in the position to order anyone to do anything," he answered sarcastically. 

"I demand...." He backhanded her and she landed on the floor in a heap. She glared at him as she checked her bruised and bloody lip. 

"Get her out of my sight!" he snarled and Roarke felt herself being dragged from the room. She was thrust back into the room that they had originally tossed her. She stood and went to the door giving it a good kick of frustration before going over the room once again in an attempt to try to find a way out. 

Grant slept badly, all night he had nightmares that time was running out for him to find Karen before it was too late. He stared at his reflection in the mirror and didn't like what he saw. He was a lot thinner than usual and his clothes hung slightly on him. His eyes had dark circles under them and he definitely needed a shave. He felt as if he'd just been over forty miles of bad road because it was the only road. He could just drop this and let someone else handle it but he couldn't seem to let go. 

John readied himself for work and headed out into the living room. He was five steps into the room before he realized that he wasn't alone. His senses registered another person and he spun around to face the intruder when he heard a soft commanding voice. "Don't move!" the voice stopped him where he stood and he saw Karen standing by the door. 

He started towards her and then noticed what her hand held. Her hold on the gun didn't waver a heartbeat and she was obviously very accustomed to holding a gun. John had no doubt that she was accustomed to using it too. The gun came up a fraction, just enough so his head instead of his heart became the target. "Get your coat on," she ordered, her voice as coolly steady as ice. 

He tried to take a friendly step forward but the slight tensing of her body and the barely perceptible tightening of her grip on the gun convinced him otherwise. He was growing decidedly uncomfortable with the gun pointed at him so unwaveringly. "What is this?" John asked confused. 

"No questions just get moving." As they stepped out of the apartment John tensed to make a break for it but she jabbed the gun into his ribs almost as if she could read his thoughts. "Don't make me kill you!" she hissed at him and John jerked straighter at the ice in her voice. 

They left the building and she nudged him towards a car with the gun that she'd stuck in his ribs. Karen opened the passenger side door and motioned for him to get in, he did so without question. "Slid over, you're driving," she ordered. John slid over behind the wheel and looked over at her. 

"Where to?" he asked. 

"Just drive and I'll let you know of any changes," she ordered. They drove silently for a couple of minutes before he turned towards her and asked, "What the hell is going on here?" 

"I told you to drive, I didn't tell you that you could hold a round robin," she snarled. 

"Look, if you're going to kill me then just do it!" he snarled angrily at her. 

"I prefer you alive for the moment. Look, I'd rather not be here either but right now it's either you or me." 

"I prefer living, actually, I've gotten quite used to it. Now drive and don't ask anymore stupid questions," she ordered. Grant drove and except for a few directions neither of them said anything. "Turn here." She ordered and John turned where she indicated pulling into the driveway of a warehouse. 

The warehouse had seen better days; it was quite run down and had once been green in color. The red door opened and out stepped two men. One was quite large with brown hair and eyes and the other was a blonde with watery blue eyes and a scar that ran from his forehead and ran down his face until it curled under his right eye. "Hand over the gun lady." The blonde said with a sneer. 

"Go find your brain, turdwad," her eyes went to the big guy standing behind the blonde. "Go tell your boss I'm here and take the puppy with you." 

The blonde started towards her but the big laid a hand on his arm and shook his head. Karen came around the car and once again shoved the gun hard into his ribs. "Move!" she hissed at John, he quietly followed her orders because he figured this was the best way to find out what was going on. They entered the warehouse and that's when John spotted the boy. Dylan Joseph Harper was his name and he was four years old, yet he tried to look so brave in a situation that had to be terrifying the boy. 

"Hey, Malcolm, I don't have all day, let's get a move on it!" A blonde man stood up from where he'd been scanning a map. 

"You never did have any patience, Roarke," he answered. 

"I didn't come here for a list of my faults," she snapped. He grinned and tossed a vial at her, which she caught perfectly with her free hand. 

She slipped the vial into a pocket and then motioned Dylan to come to her. "Not the boy," said Malcolm. 

"Don't screw with me! We had a deal!" Roarke snarled. 

"I changed my mind," he grinned lopsidedly at her. Grant looked into this guy's eyes and realized that he was totally insane. Roarke stepped from John's side and walked up to Malcolm cocking the gun. She pointed it at his head. 

"You're pushing your luck!" she snarled. John heard a couple of guns click behind him and knew the thugs now had their guns aimed at Karen. 

Malcolm smiled nastily. "Two to one," he said. 

"Two to two," said John as he kicked the blonde hard and knocked him over. John lunged for the blonde and wrestled him for his gun. He turned the gun to the other thug who surrendered without a fight and John tied both of them up securely. 

He turned to see that Roarke still held her gun aimed at Malcolm's heart, and from the look in her eye she didn't want to bring him in. "Don't, Karen, he's not worth it" said John. 

"He's right," said Malcolm. 

"Shut up!" she hissed at him. 

"Besides haven't you forgotten someone?" he asked. Roarke squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath before her eyes reopened and she lowered the gun. Forestor started to leave, but John brought up his gun aiming at him. Karen placed a hand on his and gently pushed it down and John turned to see great sorrow in her eyes. When he looked back Forestor had made good his escape and had disappeared from sight. John took her into his arms and held her tightly as she began to sob and released what must of been a great deal of stress in the form of tears. 

"He still has Christopher," she whispered quietly to him and then began to cry even harder. 

Grant turned the thugs over to the local police and then headed with Dylan over to the hospital. Supposedly Forestor had made it clear to her that even if she did manage to rescue her sons they would still die. He'd poisoned both boys and he had the only antidote. They waited while the hospital admitted Dylan and tested the so-called antidote that Forestor had tossed her in the warehouse. He rocked her until she quieted down and then brushed the hair out of her eyes. 

"Aren't you supposed to be at work?" she asked with a sad smile. 

"I don't want to leave you when you're this upset," replied John. 

"John, I'm fine and if I need anything I've got the guard outside. He's already checked in with me and he'll take good care of me so you don't have to worry." Karen made shooing motions toward him and he smiled. 

John kissed her deeply before heading for the door. "I'll met you for lunch," he said and she nodded in response. 

* * *

Chris laid quietly on his bed pretending to be asleep as the guard checked on him. He waited for a bit after he heard the door close just to be on the safe side. Chris threw aside his blankets revealing the fact that he was fully dressed. He opened the door silently and checked the hall before he closed as quietly as he'd opened it. He went over to the computer and pressed the button on the monitor. When the monitor finished powering up it showed building plans. The plans were for the building he was currently in. Chris typed in a few commands so that the alarm system would fail when he needed it to. He turned off the monitor and grabbed his knapsack before heading out into the hallway. He kept to the shadows as his uncles had taught him and avoided most of the guards. As he came to the exit he spotted two guards. 

He'd heard the guards talking earlier about how Dylan had gotten away. He knew his brother was safe with his mother and now all he had to do was escape. He needed to distract the guards but how would he go about it? He pulled deeper into the shadows before pulling his laptop out of his knapsack. He rigged the alarm system to go off in a few seconds. Chris smiled as the guards jumped and raced off in the direction of the alarm. He slid the laptop into his backpack and quickly pulled out a set of lock picks one of his uncles had given him. He moved quickly to the door and crouched down in front of the lock. He'd promised his grandmother that he'd never tell his mother that she'd taught him how to pick locks and he hadn't. "Shazam!" he whispered to himself as the door opened. He threw his pick set into his knapsack and slid outside before closing the door behind him. 

* * *

Grant came into the VCTF and was waylaid by his partner Nathan Brubaker. "John, there's someone here to see you," he pointed over to where Chris sat. 

"Chris Harper?!" John said unsure whether or not to believe his good luck. 

"Yes." Chris answered and Grant took a chair next to him. 

"I'm a friend of your mother's and she's been very worried about you." Grant turned and spotted George. "George why don't...." John started. 

"Call your place and let his mom know he's safe? Already on my way to the phone." George grinned mischievously. 

"One of these days, George, you're going to read my mind and be a very surprised person." 

George laughed. "Not likely, knowing you," he ribbed before heading off to his desk. 

"Are my mom and brother alright?" Chris asked with a waver in his voice. 

"Your mom is fine and staying at my place. Your brother Dylan is in the hospital under guard while he's undergoing treatment. He's going to be fine and we should get you over to the hospital to have you checked out while we're at it. We'll have your mom meet us there." John squeezed the boy's shoulder to reassure him before going over to George to tell him they were on their way to the hospital. John took Chris and went to his car, he held the passenger door open while Chris got himself settled before closing it and heading over to the driver's side. He got in the car and pulled out of the lot, they drove in silence for a while. 

Chris stared out the passenger side window. "My mom's okay and my brother's going to be fine, but for how long?" John felt slightly nausea as he tried to think of a way to answer the boy. 

"I hope forever, but you know as well as I do Chris that no one's safe forever. I will promise you this, I will do my best to protect your mom and you guys," replied John. 

"My dad did his best too, but that didn't keep him alive," Chris said angrily. 

"Your dad must've been a really great guy." 

"My dad was the best. He always found time for me and mom even though he worked hard to make the world a better place. My dad believed even the little he did made progress towards a better future. He and my mom believed that if you believed in something strong enough it was worth fighting for. Maybe even worth dying for if need be. Have you ever found a reason worth dying for, Agent Grant?" asked Chris. 

"Yes, my friends at the VCTF, then your mom, and now your brother and you," answered John. 

"Listen, kid, I know your probably thinking I'm just telling you what you want to hear but I'm not. I don't want to and can't take your father's place in your mom's or your life," said Grant quietly. 

"That's the truth," muttered Chris under his breath, John refrained from replying to his mutter. 

"I love your mom and I think that if you gave me half a chance you might actually, horrors of horrors, like me," John parked the car and led Chris up to his brother's room. He checked with the guard before leading Chris into Dylan's room. 

Karen was sitting next to Dylan's bed as she brushed the hair out of his eyes. "Time for a haircut kiddo," she smiled at the sleeping toddler. She tensed and looked up when she heard the door open. She saw John and Chris enter the room and rushed over and hugged Chris tightly. 

"Mom!" he complained and pulled away while trying to look unfazed by her hug. 

"I'm sorry, I'm just glad to see you. How did you escape?" Chris grinned and held up his set of lock picks. 

"Your grandmother! I told her to be careful about what she teaches you!" scolded Karen. "I'll let you talk while I see about an getting a doctor to see Chris." 

John kissed her on the forehead and left. "How's Dylan doing?" Chris asked. 

"He's going to be okay. It's you I'm worried about," she replied. 

"Mom do you intend on marrying that Grant guy?" he asked. 

Karen paced a little. "John and I are close but I don't know about marriage," she answered. " 

"Mother!" 

Karen turned to see what had upset Chris so and found herself face to face with Forestor. "You....!" she launched herself at him and he back handed her. 

Karen gasped as she landed next to the bed and felt pain rattle through her body. He dragged her up by her hair and she glanced at Chris who was still struggling with Forestor's two thugs. He struck her hard across the jaw knocking her unconscious and the last thing she saw was Chris being limply held in one of the thugs arms. "Get those brats to the car," snarled Forestor. He placed an unconscious Karen on the bed. "Thought you could deny me my revenge against Agent Grant did you?" he asked her menacingly. "Well, I can't ruin his career thanks to you, but I think it would work just as well to destroy his life. I'm going to invite your darling John Grant to be the witness to your executions. You and those brats will die in front of him and it will totally destroy him. Then he'll pay for what he did to me forever, knowing he's responsible for your deaths." He lifted Karen up and left the room. 

When John returned Dylan's hospital room he saw evidence of the struggle Karen and Chris had put up. He heard a groan and opened the bathroom door to find the agent who had been assigned to protect Dylan just regaining consciousness. The agent who had been assigned to Karen was still unconscious but his pulse was steady. "What happened here?!" asked John in a panicked tone. 

"Somebody whacked me from behind," groused the agent and groaned as Grant helped him to his feet. John left the agent to take care of the other agent and headed out of the room. He pulled out his cell phone and informed Bailey what had happened. As he was about to return his cell phone to his pocket it rang. 

"Hello?" said John. "It's so good to hear from you, Agent Grant," a male voice said with sarcasm. 

"Forester!" John exclaimed. 

"If you want your girlfriend back you'll meet me at the Conroy warehouse on Eighth and Madison in one hour." 

Before John could respond Forestor hung up. John called Bailey back and filled him in on the new update as he headed for his car. "John, wait until we get there before going in," ordered Bailey. 

"I'm sorry Bailey but while I wait he may kill Karen and the boys." Grant hung up his cell phone and tossed it in his jacket pocket as he got into his car. He drove towards the warehouse while the worst possible outcomes played through his mind. The idea that he'd lose Karen and the boys after just finding him made him physically shake from the fear. 

Grant pulled up in front of the warehouse and quickly headed making sure he stayed in the shadows. He pulled out his gun and worked his way slowly towards a window. He looked into the window in time to see Forestor shoot and kill two men. He fell back against the wall of the warehouse and took a deep breath in an attempt to calm his racing heart. The man obviously had no trouble removing obstacles, even if those obstacles were human lives. Grant made his way to the door intent on quietly entering the warehouse and rescuing Karen and the boys. 

Karen awoke to find herself in total darkness with her body aching in every place possible. She could taste the gag in her mouth but was unable to reach the gag because her hands were tied up behind her back. Instinctively, she kicked out and found that her legs were bound and a length of rope bound her hands to her feet. Karen tried to stay calm as she assessed the situation. Her head ached and the fuzziness in it told her she'd been unconscious for a few hours. She squirmed and kicked but all she got for her efforts were stabs of pain. Panting as she fought to remain conscious as she lay in the darkness. She gasped for breath as she waited for the light-headed feeling to pass. Karen was grateful for the pain in her body because it helped her to remain conscious. Suddenly a light blinded Karen and rough hands dragged her upward. 

She stumbled and felt herself leaning against a solid body. The rope connecting her hands and legs was severed, as was the rope that bound her feet. She was placed on her feet as her tearing eyes adjusted to the light. Forestor yanked the gag out of her mouth. "You and I are going to have some fun." Karen spit in his face and he backhanded her. She felt the blood trickling from her lip but said nothing. Instead she just glared at him. "Your loving John Grant has come to rescue you and those brats of yours." She struggled against him until she felt a rope tighten around her neck. "Be a good girl and you and your brats will live to see another sunrise," he said in a low threatening tone. He shoved her forward and she stumbled before catching herself. 

"Forestor!" yelled Grant and Forestor yanked her around to face Grant. 

"Let her go!" he ordered. 

"So you can arrest me? I don't think so," he answered sarcastically. 

"John, shoot through me if you have to." 

Forestor tightened the rope about her throat. "Shut up!" snarled Forestor. 

"Just shoot the bastard!" shouted Karen. He grabbed her and spun Karen around to face him. Karen grabbed his gun hand and they struggled for control of the weapon. It went off a couple of times as they struggled causing Karen to jump with fear but the adrenaline held her in it's grip and she continued to struggle. She clutched her hands together and swung with all her strength into Forestor's jaw. Forestor hit the floor with a loud thud and Karen bent over him to find him unconscious. She searched through his pockets and found the keys to the handcuffs she wore. 

She released herself and turned to see John lying unmoving on the floor. Karen raced over to him and checked him for a pulse. She sighed in relief when she found it and quickly searched his pockets for his cell phone. She made a 911 call and while telling the operator what had happened she took off her blouse. It was dirty but it was the only thing she had on hand to stop the bleeding and use as a bandage. Karen gently divested John of his jacket, shirt and holster. She placed a wad of the shirt over the wounds and then wrapped the rest of his shirt around to make a makeshift bandage. She slid John's jacket on and then took his shirt to wrap around her makeshift bandage to help hold it in place. She smiled when she accepted the other arm from Chris, he had Dylan with him and both boys appeared to be unharmed. 

The ambulance arrived and the paramedics tended to Grant before loading him into the ambulance. The police gave her and the boys a ride to the hospital where they questioned her as she waited to hear about John's condition. Even though she'd rather be with John, at least the questioning kept her mind occupied and off her fears about John. She was glad for the repeated questions because she knew if she'd been left to herself she would have gone mad with worry. 

She smiled at the thought that she'd have to thank her mother for teaching Chris how to pick a lock. Dylan now lay curled up next to her with his head in her lap. Chris, who had insisted that he was too old for a nap was slumped beside her sound asleep with his head on her shoulder. When Karen spotted Bailey Malone she gently disengaged herself from the boys. She greeted him and he made the introductions of his team, then she explained what had happened. 

* * *

Hours later, Karen was awakened by a nurse that informed her Grant was in recovery. She thanked the nurse and told her that she'd tell the others, the nurse nodded and left. Once again Karen quietly disengaged herself from the boys and made her way over to Bailey and gently woke him. He sat up with a start and she calmed him. "John's in recovery," she told him in a low voice to keep from waking the others. He nodded as he wiped the sleep from his eyes and Karen smiled at how much he reminded her of Dylan. 

Bailey let her go in first and she sat on the side of the bed. She stroked his hair gently. "Hey, you really stuck your foot in this time," she smiled as a frown appeared on his face. "Even unconscious you can't take a joke," she giggled quietly, Karen wiped away the tears of relief from her face. 

She hadn't allowed herself to believe he'd be okay until right this moment. She was so intent on John that she hadn't noticed Bailey enter the room. "John, you get better because I won't allow anything else. Trust me you wouldn't want to piss me off. I love you and your friends....no family because that's what Bailey, Sam and the others are too, they need you in their lives." She stroked his cheek but straightened when John groaned. His eyes fluttered open and he smiled when he saw her. "Stay put," she ordered as he tried to sit up. 

"You were shot and need to take it easy," said Bailey as he came over to the bed. 

"I've gotta get the guys to bed, so I'll leave you to talk with Bailey." John grabbed her wrist, stopping her. "It's alright, you're going to be okay, and Forestor is in jail without hope of bail." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek before leaving. 

* * *

It wasn't until later when he read her letter that as she left the room it might be the last time he saw her. Karen said in her letter that she'd be back but she thought it best right now for her and the boys to leave for a while. He could understand her worry over the disruption this had been in the boys' lives, but he still missed her. He took heart in the last words she wrote, _I love you John,_ and that she had signed it _love Karen._

At least he knew, despite her confusion, she still cared and he had a strong feeling he'd see her again. He sighed as he reread the letter for what was probably the billionth time since he'd come back to work. He missed her terribly and wished she would return soon so that he'd be sure she was okay. 

Just then John felt a pair of slender arms wrapped around his throat as a kiss was planted on his cheek. "Long time no see stranger," said Karen. 

THE END 

* * *

© 1999   
Please send comments to the author! 

01/15/2000 

* * *


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